


Meeting

by newt_scamander



Series: Graves and Barebone [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Spoilers, meeting fic, pre plot twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 01:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8601385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newt_scamander/pseuds/newt_scamander
Summary: First of all, I want to thank everyone for the amazing response to my "Acceptance" fic. It has been absolutely amazing to see such an outpouring of support and love for something I wrote. I hope to keep you guys pleased. Second, of all I hope you enjoy this! The name Awiergan means cursed. I thought it was fitting. Come say hi on tumblr! equalityfor-bowtruckles.tumblr.com





	

Sixth Street was always busy at five thirty. By then most of the factories had closed for the day and all the constituents were filling the streets, making it much easier for Credence to distribute his leaflets, even if they ended up scattered all over. At least he wouldn’t have to hold them anymore.  
He hummed to himself, waiting eagerly for the clock tower to alert the foremen of the lateness of the hour. Being out in the cold wasn’t so bad, as least he was away from Mary Lou.  
As he thought about her, and about all the horrors she had committed he got the strange sensation that he was being watched. He tried to ignore it, thinking it was Mary Lou or Chastity coming to make sure he was doing his job. He hastened himself along, persisting even when the passerby declined the leaflets. He was pushing them into lunch pails and trying to keep his voice from wavering. “Witches live among us! Join the new Salemers for a second G-Great Awakening!” He cried.  
“This is very interesting information, Credence.” A dark figure said, clutching a leaflet that had obviously been discarded and trampled. “Do you believe it?”  
Credence took a step back from the figure, further into the light of lamppost. “I-it’s true. The level of their insubordination has brought the wrath of almighty God down upon New York.” He recited the doctrine Mary Lou had instilled in her foster children over dinner.  
“You know that’s not true, Credence.” The figure practically purred as he stepped further into the light. His form was thrown into greater relief and Credence could see a brilliant shock of black hair, silvery locks mixed intermittently. He was beautiful, from the top of his hair, down to his jawline and broad shouldered torso, even his legs were the picture of perfection. Credence felt his chest tighten. He was absolutely beautiful.  
“I don’t k-know what you’re talking about. God is p-punishing us for our inaction.” He stuttered, the man’s appearance further unnerving him.  
“Credence, you and I both know that wizard kind is not to blame for these calamities. It is perhaps the persecution your family so happily perpetuates that lead wizards to strike back, but it is the Second Salemers who throw the first blow, am I incorrect?”  
Credence felt himself shake his head. “N-no, sir.” He admitted.  
“That’s right. They encourage negativity and hatred against peaceful witches and wizards. But not you. You’re different. Did you know that?” The beautiful man asked.  
Credence shook his head again. “No, s-sir. I’m not. I’m a Second Salemer. G-God may judge me but you c-can’t.”  
“Hush, child. I am not judging you. I am merely informing you. You do not belong here, on street corners handing out such nonsensical propaganda. You belong with me. Among your own kind.” The man extended a gloved hand. “Percival Graves.”  
Credence glanced down at his hand and felt his leaflets fall to the ground. “C-Credence Barebones, sir.” He took his hand and felt his chest tighten.  
“I know. I’ve been watching you for quite some time. I’ve noticed that you are not like the others. You’re special. You were meant for more than this.”  
“More?” Credence asked. “What do you mean, sir?” He was still holding Graves’ hand and he didn’t think he would ever want to stop holding him.  
“I’ll show you.” Graves grinned, and there was an uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a tube and deposited rather suddenly in a foreign place, clearly miles away from his street corner.  
Credence stumbled back, letting go of Graves’ hand as he moved into a corner. “You’re one of them! A witch!” He sank down, pointing shakily at Graves.  
Graves took a step toward him. “A wizard.” He corrected. “I am a wizard, employed by the Magical Congress of the United States of America. I am the Director of Magical Security and I have something rather important to ask of you.”  
Credence was panicking, his chest heaving as he fought for air. “No! No, you aren’t. You are a vision, implanted because of my own disobedience. I’m sorry, Mother!” He cried. “I will be better!”  
Graves kneeled in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. “Credence, breathe. You have not done anything wrong. You are safe here. I assure you that I am real, that I am going to protect you and that I will not ever hurt you.”  
Credence shook his head. “No, no, no. I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sorry I forgot what you taught me.” He started unbuckling his belt and then felt arms encircle him and pull him close. He gasped- could someone be so tender?  
“Listen to me.” Graves whispered, holding the boy in his lap. “There is nothing to fear. I will not let any harm befall you.”  
Credence continued struggling for breath, gripping his Graves’ shirt almost unconsciously. He felt tears dampen the man’s shirt and he felt guilt sink in his stomach. He tried to get a hold of himself but found it difficult. Nevertheless, Graves never let up. He held Credence and let him cry and gasp and apologize until he had maintained a steady breathing pattern. “M-Mr. Graves?’ He whispered.  
Graves nodded. “It is still me.”  
He let out a sigh of relief. “I- I apologize for m-my outburst, sir.”  
“It is all right, my boy. Are you okay? I gather Mary Lou is as tolerant in her home as she seems to be to people different from her ideal worldview.”  
“She punishes me. Not Chastity or Modesty. They’re good. They know how to behave. I get scared and forget. She reminds me.” He whispered, glancing to his wounded hand.  
Graves followed his gaze. “Your hands?”  
The boy nodded, pulling the bandage aside. “It was well deserved. I did not distribute as many leaflets as I should have.” He said quietly. “It was my fault.”  
Graves pulled a wand from his jacket pocket and reached for Credence’s hand. “May I?”  
Credence nodded somberly, eager to see more magic. He watched as Graves moved the wand over his hand, healing the wound instantly. He curled it into a fist when he was done, amazed at the miracle. “You are a wizard.”  
Graves smiled. “I am. And you are my friend, yes?”  
Credence nodded some. “Yes, sir. I’d like that very much sir.”  
“Good man.” He nodded. “I will come see you again, okay? Thursday. Be waiting for me. I have some important news. But for now, I must return you.” He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. “Here. For your tears.”  
Credence took the handkerchief, wiping his face with the embroidered cloth. Percival Awiergan Graves. He smiled some. “Thank you, sir.” He said, handing it back to him.  
“No, no. You keep it.” Graves insisted, closing his hand on the cloth.  
Credence nodded. “Thank you, sir.”  
Graves helped him up. “Time I returned you. Take my hand, if you please.”  
Credence nodded again, taking his hand. He felt the strange sensation of being dragged through a tube and was placed once more on his street corner.  
“Thursday.” Graves reminded. “I’ll be here.” He promised.  
Credence nodded. “Yes sir. Me too.”  
“Good man. Keep your head up.” Graves nodded, turning and disappearing through the crowd. Credence watched until he couldn’t see him any longer. But the handkerchief was still in his pocket. He played with the hem as he walked home. He was praised, for not having retained any leaflets. That would be his new distribution point. It made him smile, a smile he hid as he raised his cup. Only four days until Thursday. He could make it until then.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I want to thank everyone for the amazing response to my "Acceptance" fic. It has been absolutely amazing to see such an outpouring of support and love for something I wrote. I hope to keep you guys pleased. 
> 
> Second, of all I hope you enjoy this! The name Awiergan means cursed. I thought it was fitting. 
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr! equalityfor-bowtruckles.tumblr.com


End file.
